


Cloudy thoughts

by Danganrose



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Pre-Despair, Pre-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), spoilers sorta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danganrose/pseuds/Danganrose
Summary: “You’re weird, you know that.”Saihara would point out that at least his hair doesn’t look like a frayed eggplant, but he remains silent, continuing to sweat beneath his school uniform.





	1. Chapter 1

“Would you turn that shit down, it’s clouding my thoughts and‘s annoying as fuck.” The boy says to him.

 

Saihara is tempted to retort with “The only thing that’s clouding your mind is that cigarette.” But seeing as the male is taller and muscular than he is, he bites his tongue and obeys. Saihara kills the music entirely, shoving his headphones back into his back and shifting to the right ever so slightly.

 

The boy takes another drag of his cigar, the smoke smells horrible and it doesn’t help that he’s 1 meter away from the guy. Saihara grips his clothed knees, resisting the urge to cough as he tries to distract himself from the social situation.

 

This whole situation is a mess in the first place. He was just heading home from school, taking the train while playing _Danganronpa,_ on his vita. He had found himself so immersed with the trials and shooting truth bullets that he ended up losing all sense of surroundings. When he finally rested after he finished the trial, he realized that he was still on the train- and had long since passed his stop.

 

And now he waits for the next train to take him back, the sun is setting and there’s only one bench that’s shaded. Which is how  _this_ guy ended up beside him, obviously not wanting to be in the sun.

 

He wipes his palms on his knees, he’s _really_ not comfortable. The fact that a complete stranger is smoking and too close to him is making him nervous. He’s thinking about hiding in the bathroom until the train comes until he’s interrupted by the guy.

 

“Dude you look like you’re gonna piss your pants, if you’re gonna do that at least tell me so I can look away.”

 

Saihara feels his face heating up, he pulls his hat a bit lower and turns away from the boy even more. “No, I don’t have to go.” His voice is a croak, and he’s stiff as a board now.

 

He can feel the guy blink at him, in stunned confusion before he snorts and takes another drag, “You’re weird, you know that.”

 

Saihara would point out that at least his hair doesn’t look like a frayed eggplant, but he remains silent, continuing to sweat beneath his school uniform.

 

The two sit in silence, the eggplant man (as Saihara has now deemed him as) finishes his cigarette and flicks it to the ground. A piece of ember catches Saihara on the hand, and he yelps and tumbles off the bench, hitting the ground hard.

The man stands up above him, looking down with a baffled look on his face. “Are you ok?” Saihara scoots backwards, cupping his damaged hand with the other. “I-I’m fine.” The boy isn’t satisfied. “If you’re hurt, just fucking tell me. I don’t want a law suit on my hands because of one damn cigarette.”

 

“I said I’m fine.”

 

“You’re obviously not.”

 

“W-what do you mean?”

 

The guy glares at him, “Don’t play with me, you’ve been acting like a beaten dog for the past 20 minutes and when a little ash hits your hand you fall of your chair.” Saihara avoids his gaze, not trusting himself to say anything. He’s heating up and sweating, even in the shade.

 

They stay like that for a minute or two, until the purple haired guy grabs Saihara by the collar and pulls him up without warning. He plops him on the bench, sitting beside him as he fiddles with something in his pocket. Saihara doesn’t say anything still, only breathing, blinking and sweating. He fishes out multiple items- a crumpled up piece of plastic wrap, a piece of lint, a band-aid, a disposable wet cloth from a restaurant, a box of matches and a spoon. He slides closer to Saihara, his breath hitches as their legs touch- finally allowing himself a small glance upon the other boy’s face.

He’s handsome, he thinks. Sharp jaw, small stubble in his chin… He’s got a plain red shirt that hangs perfectly over his torso, the school pants and jacket (which is flapping open) seem out of place for a man like him. His eyes are a strange color of lilac, and his brows and hair are both dyed the same eggplant color. He’s practically screaming ‘Cool rebel gangster’.

 

Saihara’s heart rate speeds up, as he takes his pale hand. It’s probably sweaty and he wishes that he could have wiped it before the other man held it.

 

He rips the package of the wipe with his teeth, showing Saihara a gleam of sparkling canines. He wipes Saihara’s hand in fluid motions, before shoving it back in his pocket and taking out the band-aid. It’s a wider type of band-aid, it makes Saihara wonder why he’s carrying them around in the first place. Judging from his appearance and attitude, he figures he doesn’t want to know.

 

With the band-aid on and his ‘wound’ fixed, Saihara’s hand is released, he mumbles a “Thank you” as he looks downwards, trying not to make eye contact. The guy shrugs, finally moving away as he leans against the wall. “So long as you don’t sue, then it’s good.”

 

Saihara wouldn’t even think about suing, even if he really could. He would never get the courage to do it.

 

“I’m just glad it didn’t get on my uniform…” He whispers, if the other boy decides to listen then he can, if not he can ignore him.

 

“ _Shit._ That would have been one fuck of a mess if someone decided to sue me for that.”

 

“Yeah, probably.” Saihara says, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

 

“That shit looks expensive, do you go to a private school or something? Wait, but should you be, you know, driving around in limos and have a different servant for each task?” he’s stepping into offensive territory, as usual, Saihara ignores it.

 

“Spring field academy, I go to spring field academy. It’s an all boy’s school.”

 

“Never heard of it.” The guy nearly laughs, running a hand thorough his hair. (Maybe that’s how it stays up-The oil from his hands?)

 

There’s the blast of a horn- the train is approaching.

 

The two get up, Saihara fumbling with the strings of his bag as the other boy stretches, muscles expanding and contracting. The train whips up dust around as it goes by, Saihara tugs on the brim of his hat to make sure that It’s on properly.

 

“I-I, I’m uh, Saihara Shuichi.” Saihara takes an eager step forward, speaking above room level due to the train.

 

It takes the man a second before he realizes what Saihara has said. He looks at Saihara, sizing him up until he actually chuckles, running a hand through his hair as it blows wildly. The train starts to slow down, and he fixes his hair.

 

He doesn’t say anything back, to which Saihara’s heart sinks _‘Nice going, why do you need to be this way?’_

 

The train screeches to a halt, Saihara’s wishing he could sink to the ground as the doors slide open.

 

“…Momota Kaito.” Saihara almost misses it.

 

“W-what?”

 

“You heard me.” He growls, giving Saihara one final look, his lilac eyes showing just a slight hit of a kindness in them before he turns away, entering the train.

 

Saihara stands there for a second, dazed, before he finally clambers on. He sits in an empty compartment on the ride home,  playing danganronpa. He’s watching the window for the people getting off at each stop, scanning the platform. Once Momota does get off, Saihara watches. He takes out another cigarette, blowing out smoke as he digs in his pockets.

 

Saihara looks away too soon. It's not like he's going to see Momota ever again, it's best if he doesn't try and get attached.

 

The train picks up speed, Saihara lets danganronpa cloud his thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi is tired of life and school- then Team danganronpa announces something...

The outside air has chilled by the time Saihara steps out of the compartment. The doors shut behind him with a hiss of steam, and the train is off again, it’s lights fading in the distance. Saihara pulls the collar of his uniform up slightly, hiking his school bag over his shoulder before treading along the dimly lightened pathways and streets towards his house.

The thoughts of Momota Kaito don’t leave his thoughts. He’s been thinking about the boy all the way home, repeating his name oh his tongue until he was sure he wouldn’t forget it. Saihara tries to keep his distance from others, for friendship or for love. His own parents didn’t pay him much mind themselves, it was better if he just went it solo.

And yet, he just can’t stop thinking about the boy. It wasn’t that he was necessarily _handsome._ With  a crazy hairstyle like that it was hard to try and think that.

_‘But imagine If it was down. Locks of sharp hair dyed lilac falling over his face, he probably pushes his fingers through it just to sweep it out of his eyes-‘_

No no, he did not feel anything towards the boy he _just met._ All he thought was that he was nice; parts of his body were, at the very least.

Saihara arrived to his apartment shortly, taking the elevator up to the 24th floor. There was no real reason why he went with that floor, just that it wasn’t super high off the ground. He could still see people walking on the sidewalk on the ground and the dogs if they walked them.

When he finally entered his apartment it was cold, he had left the window open before he went to school and now that it was dark the night air had chilled the entire room. He set his bag down, rubbing his hands together before closing it.

His apartment wasn’t too big. 3 rooms, technically speaking. The front door swing out into the mud room, a closet on his right and an umbrella stand and coat rack on his left. There was a step he would go up before he was level with the rest of the apartment. A simple hardwood floor lined the remainder of the house. To the right was the kitchen, and up ahead was the dining room/ living room. There was no walls or doors dividing the two, only a counter from the sink. He could enter from the mud room and exit into the dining room without opening a door. There was a small futon with a tv in front of it in the living room, he usually spent his time watching Danganronpa. His bedroom was to the right of the living room and kitchen, smack dab in between the two.

He sighed as he rested his school bag on his chair. His room itself was plain as well. Single bed with black sheets.  There was a desk that he either did homework on or relaxed with his computer, plain as plain can be. The only thing that spiced it up was the posters and merchandise from Dangaronpa. A majority of them were of Kirigiri, Kirigiri with Sayaka, or Makoto. Danganronpa characters in general, the ones that he liked.

Saihara collapsed on his bed, tired, sweaty, and exhausted. He hadn’t gotten any homework done at all, and he would have to wake up in 5 hours to go to school again. He just really needed sleep.

His eyes droop close, vision slowly coming to a halt as exhaustion takes him.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He wakes up in shock the next morning to the chirping of his alarm. He sighs, closing his eyes for a few desperate moments of sleep before he pulls himself out of bed with an annoyed groan.

He didn’t bother to get out of his uniform the previous night- er- 5 hours ago. So he sprays some deodorant, brushes his teeth and washes the sleep out of his face before sulking into the kitchen.

Saihara’s fridge is mostly empty- he was supposed to go out to get something last night but that didn’t go as planned.

“Looks like bread and butter for lunch again.” He could always walk somewhere out of school for something to eat- but he’ll probably end up napping on an empty bench.

He grabs some bread, and picks at it as he tries to finish some of his homework. His mind is fuzzy and tired, plus he only spends 10 minutes on it before he’s grabbing his bag and walking to the train station again.

He picks up a coffee before hoping in, opting to stand and shake some of his drowsiness away. If he sat down he might fall asleep, he doesn’t really feel like repeating the string of events of last night.

Except for meeting Momota, that is.

He lets the caffeine work its way through his body, the sun is shining through buildings and he’s listening to a softer danganronpa track on his (dying) phone. ‘Serenity services.’ Pleasant on the ears, not too despair educing or zany. Just nice and calm, just what he needs. Although, maybe he just really needs a classic rock one like ‘Enroshika’. The final invsestigation musics were always the best.

The train rumbles to a halt, and he walks off, thinking about danganronpa the whole way to school.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He feels like death, and probably looks like it.

Saihara groans, throwing off his shoes and blazer to flop on his cheap mattress.

School was hell, as usual. Boring class, boring people. His phone died in the middle of lunch which was _fantastic,_ just fantastic.

Then he had to pick up groceries from the store before coming back, lugging the heavy bags all the way back to his apartment.

He’d give anything to change his life, or to not have a life at all.

Is he depressed? Yeah, probably. And anxious and an insomniac. But hey, that’s life right.

At this point he really only lives for danganronpa, it’s latest season finished a month or so ago and he’s been a bit off ever since. The sole survivor, Amami Rantaro, Was bombarded with interviews, photo shoots, put on the cover of magazines.

Oh, plus he’s rolling in cash now.

Season 52 was _wild._ They actually placed the entire cast in an empty, abandoned part of a city. Murderers could get creative, people went wild. Amami, was given an edge because of his talent- “shsl Adventurer.”  While some people struggled in the post-apocalyptic state, he flourished. And he won. Rumor was that he would be coming back for the next season- not very hard to believe. Amami was pleasant yet deadly. He was Mr.nice guy for a bit, but then he cut the bull shit and turned out to be cold and cunning. With his looks and body and personality, he was a fan favorite.

The other 15 cast members were outshined, they were popular and all but no one compared to Amami.

Many of them probably wish he was dead.

Saihara plugged his phone in, not bothering to get up from the bed. He scrolled through some social media sites, checking the news and latest on Danganronpa. Maybe an hour passed, when he finally had the sense to turn off his phone and roll to a different position on the bed, falling asleep.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s dark outside by the time he wakes up. Drool on his pillow, body feeling gross and stiff from being in the same clothes for so long.

He drags the blankets with him as he makes it to the shower, peeling off his gross, the cold clothing. The water is warm, he lets himself wash away the grime from the past days until he feels decently cleaner.

Saihara changes into comfy clothing, there’s a bag that has boxes of Mc Donald’s fries and 2 hamburgers that he also picked up on the way home. He fixes himself a glass of soda before placing himself on his bed carefully, laptop balanced on his legs and ear buds plugged in as he continues re-watching a season from Danganronpa.

He gets through maybe 5 or 4 episodes before he decides to get up, throwing out the garbage before re setting himself on his bed.

That’s when he notices the notifications.

Like a storm, chat rooms, twitter, tumblr, everything seems to be happeing at once. He pulls up a post and reads it:

**NEW SEASON OF DANGANRONPA, NOW WITH REAL PEOPLE AND REAL DEATH!**

**Team Danganronpa has just announced its new season of the hit _Danganronpa_ to be taking auditions from the general public, for anyone within the age limits to audition for this in real life killing game experience. **

**Cast members in this game will be playing a _real_ game of Danganronpa, no programs, no acting, real life flesh and blood people that will die once killed this season.**

**Auditions will be held this time in Japan, where high school students can audition for the chance to risk their lives in this despair educing game. The winner of the game gets 1 million dollars (American), and there is a new rule that will be discussed closer to the seasons premier.**

**More information will be coming soon.**

Saihara felt his eyes go wide. Danganronpa? Being held in Japan? And…and it’s the first ever actual killing? People are going to get killed this season! For real!

Each game was held in a country, America, Canada, England. And Team Danganronpa would broadcast the game live around the world, so that everyone could watch, translated for their comfort. Team Danganronpa would pick 16 out of the thousands that applied. Those 16 would be placed in a simulation, or a reality style tv set, where they would each try to kill each other, no one died, ever. Hurt, yes, but never ever have they had it where people would die. Is that even allowed? Eh, who cares. It’s Team Danganronpa after all, they’re practically the god of this world.

And now….now they’re using real blood and real bloodshed! Ahh, and it’s in Japan…how lucky for him…..years could go by and a country wouldn’t be selected, and even then, you have to be within the high school age gap. For him to be in the country that was chosen when he’s in highschool….

A one in 1000 chance.

He’s giddy with excitement, creating posts on his blog and chatting with everyone excited online. He feels his face stretch into a smile, a genuine smile. He feels almost like a kid in a candy store, squealing and smiling and clapping his hands together.

Then he realizes; he can _audition._ He can be a part of Danganronpa, a character the whole world knows about.

He’s going to audition, no question about it. This is everything he’s ever wanted in his sad, boring life ever.

The only thing is, will he be accepted?

The easiest part was already over, now comes the hard part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i wasn't going to make this more than one chapter but uhh here it is


	3. update

hi sorry 

my mental state is in the gutters. and i dont have the motivation to finish this story. im sorry

i might pick up on writing again, i might not. im sorry

**Author's Note:**

> i'ts very late and i'm very tired but this is my first almost 'short story fanfiction' yay I'm sorry if it's really crappy this is my first time doing this hah


End file.
